Ashes to Ashes
by twitchy witch
Summary: Were you wondering whatever happened to Evie's ill-fated friends?  So is she.
1. Chapter 1

**Ashes to Ashes**

_My second foray into the world of Kim Harrison. Evie and Ash are my own characters, but Rachel, Jenks, and Al make cameos in this one. Of course I don't own any of them, but they were fun to play with for a little while. _

_If you have not read "The Scar" you may wish to do so before you dive into this story. If you don't mind a little spoiler, here's a very brief summary: Eve narrowly avoided being kidnapped by the demon Ash as a teenager. Her four friends (Red, Greg, Judy, and Toby) weren't so lucky, but Eve survived with a scar on her face. Her past has found her thirty years later, in the form of Red's grandson, who discovered her teaching at his university and got the whole story out of her. That story is told in "The Scar" and this story takes place immediately following that one._

**Part one: In Which The Decision is Made To Consult the Naked Witch**

The two weeks following my meeting with Derek, son of Mary, daughter of Red, were filled with anxiety, sleepless nights, and seventeen- _seventeen!_- full-blown panic attacks.

You might say the kid had hit a nerve.

Just my luck that a kid from my Colorado hometown had scored a scholarship to my university. Just my luck that he'd decided to take one of my demonology elective courses. Just my fucking luck he saw the scar and put two and two together. He was so earnest and fresh, and he had Red's accusing eyes. It was so not fair. I'd spent the better part of thirty-plus years trying to put those accusing eyes and that whole horrifying experience behind me. I'd devoted my life to demonology, an act of defiance, penitence, and self-defense. Certainly not to put to practical use, damnit!

I could have sworn there was no force in heaven or on earth or in the Ever After that could have moved me to consider participating in a real summoning, but I was wrong. All it took was a skinny goth kid with big doe eyes.

Well, no, that's not entirely accurate. I downed half a bottle of scotch after I banished the kid from my office. Then I spent an awful week trying to forget him. So in reality, it took...let me think...yes, it took a skinny doe-eyed goth kid, a trip to the ER after I collapsed hyperventilating in a supermarket, four new emergency therapy sessions, several deleted emails and another interview with Red Jr. Jr after he caught me in the hallway after a class, and the rest of the scotch that evening.

And a final admitting to my cowardly ass that if I didn't help the kid, I would never be able to put back together that wall of justifications and excuses that had just been smashed to bits. Especially if he just went and did it himself, and got his sorry ass dragged off by Ash too. If he hadn't come to me, it wouldn't have made a difference- one more headline in a newspaper that made me go "Aw, what a shame", but shit, I'd just given him the fucking keys to the gates of the Ever After on a silver platter with my story. Instead of scaring the kid, I'd made it look easy-peasy, just stand in a line and chat. And fall under Ash's spell, and become another tragedy plaguing the family. Except it _would_ be my fault this time. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Crap.

I had to admit, finally, that there was actually a potential for closure here. The past had found me, and if I didn't stick my neck out it might just go down the exact same way. I could change it this time. Not that I would nobly sacrifice myself to save anyone, or anything. It's not like you can rescue a familiar once they've been caught. Hell, I didn't even really want the details of what had happened to Greg and the others, not really, but...

But I could do this for Derek and his family. And me. One quick summoning, and then I never intended to do it ever, ever again.

Yup, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. And a shitload of scotch and Xanax charms.

"So," I explained to the kid after summoning him back to my office with a short and surly email, "the only practical difficulty here is that I don't have any of their summoning names. And you can't pay me enough to stand in a line until I meet another one of them. And that line that I met Ash in is back in Colorado. So here's my thought: I'm going to see if I can reach that witch in Cinci—"

"The naked one?" he asked, grinning.

Rachel Morgan was probably the most infamous witch in the States. Not only did she actually summon a demon into a friggin' _courtroom_ to testify, of all things, but a few weeks ago she'd pulled some publicity stunt that got her picture on every newspaper in the nation. You can go on the net to find the same pictures with the black bars removed. The blond politician who's standing next to her? His expression is fucking _priceless_.

"Yeah, the naked one. See if she'll give me her bad boy's summoning name. Meanwhile, you think about just what you're going to ask, and what you're willing to pay. I don't know who you'll get, but if he's anything like Ash, he'll like juicy gossip. The more damaging, the better. Blackmail kind of stuff. The kind of thing that could lead to death or dishonor if it- when it- gets into the wrong hands."

Derik shifted uncomfortably.

"Did you think they'd want money? They want slaves, kid. You want news of your grandpappy, you'll have to pay for it in _their_ currency. Information. It can be your own info, if you want, though I wouldn't recommend it. You do NOT want Ash getting into your head."

"Fine," Derik mumbled, looking sick. "I'll see what I can dig up."

"Right." I picked up the phone, dialing the number I'd dug up off the internet.

"Vampiric Charms, Rachel speaking, can I help you?" The voice sounded young, suspicious, and very, very tired. "And if this is another crank call—"

My throat suddenly went dry, and I cleared it. "No, no, no, um, it's real. I have a problem and I need your advice."

The voice did not sound convinced of the call's non-crankiness yet, "About what? Shrinking charms? Where to find elf porn? Demon summoning? Sorry, can't help you."

My heart skipped a beat when she said the last one. "This is Dr. Eve Johnson, of the University of Florida?" I hated how my voice sounded, a mere shadow of the confident woman I'd been two weeks back.

She paused. "Oh. All right, how can I help you?" She'd obviously never heard of me. Not surprising.

"I'll be frank with you- I need a summoning name."

I heard a snort on the other end of the line, and a new voice came on, "Tink's knickers, woman, are you insane?"

"Jenks! Get off the line!"

"Look, lady, if you want to commit suicide, there's a lot of nicer ways to do it," the second voice continued, ignoring her.

"He's right," Rachel said after a moment. "Do yourself a favor, and leave the summoning to the professional idiots with a death wish."

"I have a kid here whose relative was taken for a familiar," I said quickly. "He just wants to know what happened. Information only, no doomed rescue attempts or anything."

There was a pause. She sighed. Jenks' voice sounded amused. "Great, you've set off her underdog neuron. Again."

"Shut up, Jenks," she snapped. "And you're going to do the summoning?"

"I'll be holding the circle, and there is nothing on this earth that could make me drop it. I'm excellent with binding circles. I have a masters in Demonology and a doctorate in line manipulation. I promise, Miss Morgan, that I won't let the kid do anything stupid."

After another very long pause, she said quickly, "All right, I might be able to help. Big _might_. Don't get your hopes up. Make an appointment to see me and we'll talk."

"I'm in Florida," I said, and I could hear the shrug over the phone.

"How bad do you feel for this kid?" she replied. "There's no way I'm giving you a summoning name over the phone! If he even agrees to let me give it out to you, that is."

We hammered out a date and time for the following month, once the school year let out and right before she left on her road trip. I hung up feeling like I was ready to vomit, but I flashed the kid a grim smile.

He looked relieved and guilty. "Sorry to put you through the all this trouble," he said.

"S'OK, kid…this is more for me than you, anyway. Though you'd better do a better job on the final than you did on the midterm, because I'm totally ready to flunk your ass right now just out of spite."


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two: In Which Rachel Does Not Use Her Better Judgment (As Usual)**

Rachel lived in a church. I wondered, but didn't ask, if she'd moved there before or after she'd met her demon. She called him Al. She was in her mid-twenties, with red curly hair twisted into a loose knot and green eyes that looked hard and serious. She was taller then I by nearly a foot. She wore jeans that looked painted on, and a well-worn black T-shirt that said, "TAKATA STAFF" on it.

Earlier, while I was sitting in my car working on calming my nerves, I'd seen her return to the church from some errand and peeked at her aura. It was friggin' black. There were still streaks of gold swirling within, but it was so damaged that I winced in sympathy. Another dark swirl of black was concentrated around her wrist. Glancing at it now, I saw nothing but a scar, an uneven circle with a slash through it. Demon mark.

Her kitchen was amazing, and I looked around appreciatively. She'd even etched a big circle onto the floor to surround the island counter, for convenient spelling. I complimented her on it, and she shrugged. "Came with the kitchen," she explained, sounding distracted. And no wonder, because about eight thousand little pixy kids were swirling around the light fixture chasing a moth. I tried not to wince at their high-pitched squealing.

She hoisted herself up to sit on the island, looking at me very seriously. "I shouldn't do this," she said. "I should have just said no. I had Ivy check out your credentials. That's the only reason I'm even considering this. And the info you want is…well, I'm not even sure they'd think it was worth their while. To them, it'll be like asking the meat house which cow your burger came from, you know? Best case scenario is, they laugh at your kid and blow him off. Worst case…"

"Trust me, I know how bad an idea it is, and I appreciate you taking the time—"

"Do you?" she asked. "Do you_ really _have any idea what might happen to you?"

"Yeah," I said, a little too quickly. If she said it out loud, it might trigger me again. "I do."

Her eyes brushed the scar on my face, and slid away again quickly. She sighed. "OK, here's what I can do: I can ask Al if he'll let me give you his summoning name. He'll probably want a favor in exchange." She held up her wrist and pointed, unembarrassed, at the scar. "You willing to go that far? I wouldn't, if I were you, they're a bitch to get rid of."

I shook my head no, unable to speak, visions of Ash scarring Judy's arm thirty years ago swimming through my head and nearly sending me off into panic again. No. If that were the price than I would have to call this off.

"Don't blame you," she said, approvingly. "It won't hurt to ask, though. Let's see what he says. You _sure _about this?"

I nodded, expecting her to hop off the counter and set the circle. To my surprise, she simply picked up an ornately etched mirror that had been lying next to her on the counter, and placed her splayed fingers on it. "Al? You got a moment?"

She proceeded to sit there silently, for a minute or two. She was apparently having a silent conversation with someone. Someone who irritated the daylights out of her, I guessed, from the expressions that flitted over her face. I watched in fascination. She was so…blasé…about this whole thing. Like she hung out with demons on a regular basis.

She jumped. "Oh, crap. Jenks, get your kids out of here, would you?" she said, sliding off the counter. "He's coming over."


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three: In Which Al Makes His First Cameo**

"_What?_" I backpedaled away, knocking over her partner's chair and sending a pile of nearly organized papers flying everywhere. The scent of burnt amber billowed through the kitchen as a tall shape began to coalesce out of smoke. And ka-boom, I was felled by the panic attack that had been looming over my head all evening.

The world came back into focus a little later. I was huddled by the fridge, gasping, trying to get a hold of myself again and if not that, at least remember how to breathe. There was a loud commotion nearby.

"Dr. Johnson! Drop the circle!" Rachel was shouting. "It's all right! Drop it!"

I blanched. I'd instinctively set her own circle, trapping her and the demon in there together. He looked beyond pissed, and Rachel was holding his arm and trying to calm him down.

"Dr. Johnson, the hallway's holy ground. Just walk over there and he can't get you. You have to let us out or Al won't help you."

"The price just shot up," the demon growled furiously, glaring. "How _dare _you bind me!"

"I didn't warn her you might show up, Al, this is my fault," Rachel said placatingly, tugging on his arm. "Look, she just freaked out, OK? I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

I scrambled into the indicated hallway and wavered there, hanging onto the wall for support. I gulped and wiped away the sweat, tears, and snot on my sleeve. Shit, shit, shit. Why yes, I _was_ tapping a line. Where the hell was it?

"Dr. Johnson, it's OK, Al and I have an understanding. No snatching my friends or clients. You'll be fine. Please, drop the circle before I lose my Friday nights, too!"

I snapped the connection and let the circle drop. I was mightily mortified. "S-sorry," I stammered. "I didn't mean to…to freak out…" I could feel everything vibrating with my fear, even my fucking teeth were chattering with the cold and the terror. Damn, I needed a drink! "Didn't even realize I'd tapped a line. Sorry."

The demon, who was in the shape of an aristocratic Victorian gentleman- complete with white lace and green frock coat- continued to glower. He shoved Rachel's hand off his arm and approached me slowly. I hung onto the wall and trusted that what Rachel had said was true. It took every last fucking nerve I had just to stay put as he stalked up, red eyes cataloging every detail, scarred face and all. He stopped only a few feet from me, and suddenly it wasn't the prissy gentleman, it was Greg staring at me. Greg, with red demon eyes, but otherwise just as I'd seen him the night it all went down. Complete with the blood. Way way too much blood, some caked and scabbed in his hair, but mostly running over his ruined clothing and bare skin in rivulets to pool on the floor. He smiled cruelly at me. "I've been waiting for you," he said. "You treacherous bitch."

I felt the remaining blood drain from my face and the world spun again as I forgot to breathe. "Oh, _fuck_," I whispered. "_Greg_."

Rachel's voice broke though the blackness. "Al, quit messing with her. What do you want in exchange for your name?"

Greg—Al—sighed dramatically. "Rachel, you're such a spoilsport. Can't I even have five minutes to play, first?" He dragged a finger down his borrowed face and licked the blood from it.

"Look at her, I doubt she'd last five minutes," Rachel said dryly, coming up beside him. It was rather a cruel thing to say, but it worked to convince Al, anyway. She obviously knew him extremely well. There wasn't a trace of worry in her eyes, not even when he put an arm around her shoulders in a familiar fashion. Annoyance, sure, as she shrugged away and grimaced at the blood he'd smeared on her neck and T-shirt, but no fear.

"She is a cringing little thing, isn't she?" he replied, looking disgusted. "Very well, I suppose your soul is right out, so how about a favor owed?"

I took a deep breath. I couldn't help it, my trembling hand kept rising to the mark on my cheek. The involuntary gesture didn't escape his notice, either. "I need to know if you have the information that he needs, first, before I agree to anything."

"Certainly," he said, shifting modes abruptly. He retreated a few steps, not nearly far enough. "Let's _chat_." He made a beckoning gesture, inviting me to step off holy ground and into striking range. "Step into my office."

"_My_ office," Rachel murmured.

"_Our _office," Jenks said from his perch on the top of a cabinet. I hadn't noticed him return. "And Ivy's going to be pissed when she sees all the blood you're tracking on her notes," he added. Neither of them were phased in the slightest by Al's gruesome new appearance.

"Aw," the demon said dismissively. "What's the matter, Doctor, don't you trust me? A little show of faith will go a long way toward getting back in my good graces."

I glanced at Rachel, who gave me a half shrug, "He hasn't broken his word _yet_. Al, Jenks is right. Look like yourself again, you're getting blood everywhere."

Their banter was helping put me at ease a little. Clearly, for them, there was nothing out of the ordinary about Rachel having a demon on the loose in her kitchen. I tried to imagine how this had possibly come about, and decided I didn't want to know what kind of bargains she'd made with Al. She_ was_ shunned, after all.

"I will if _she_ will," Al offered. "The scar's the real deal, but that's not your face, love."

I bit my lip, hard. For all I knew, this was Ash in disguise. He might recognize me.

"I'm not liking your lack of cooperation," he said, congeniality disappearing. "If you don't come in here and take off that charm—"

"All right," I said faintly. I took a step into the room, reached under my shirt, and drew out the amulet that altered my appearance.

"Better," Al said. I steeled myself and dropped it. I forced my hand away from the scar again, instead clasping my shoulder tightly, knowing the effect was gone and my real face was back. Al looked mildly disappointed as he eyed my new features. "But not by much," he added.

_Bastard just insulted me!_ I felt a glimmer of anger. It helped. I felt the hard, painful knot of tension ease from me a little as Greg's tormented visage melted back into Al's smug one. Maybe I could get through this after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four: In Which Evie Only Faints Once**

"OK, about thirty years ago, a demon grabbed a group of four teenagers from Colorado. Their names were Greg, Judy, Toby, and Red. Russel Redmond, I mean." I swallowed. "Russel's grandson wants to know what happened to them, especially Red. He wants to summon you to bargain for the answer."

Al tapped his teeth thoughtfully. "Hmmm…Colorado, mmm? Who did you say did the procuring?"

_Procuring._ Like running out to the local market for groceries. I shuddered. "Called himself 'Ash.'"

Al brightened. "Of course. Ah, yes, I remember now. He handed two of them over to me for training up." He cocked his head curiously at me. "I thought that fellow in your head looked familiar. Now, why would seeing _him_ again be your greatest fear, hmmm?"

I couldn't help it, my hand flashed back up to my face. I tried to make it a different nervous gesture, tucking my too-short-to-tuck hair behind an ear. This was such a terrible idea. Al was going to figure it out, and tell Ash. I felt myself beginning to shake as the panic began to rise again, and I forced it back down with an effort. It would be OK. I was still safe. Al didn't know how to find me, and neither did Ash. Best not to answer. "S-so you could tell him—"

Al inclined his head. "Yes, I know their fates. Two of them, anyway. Not telling you _which_ two, mind you."

Rachel looked absolutely heartsick. My first theory, that perhaps she brought Al familiars in exchange for…whatever…went out the window. Did I mention that I am about twice as paranoid as your average tinfoil hat wearer?

I felt my gorge rise. "All right, then. What do you want in exchange for your summoning name? Besides a mark, I just can't…I can't."

Al regarded me thoughtfully. "If I recall correctly, ol' Ash was seriously pissed off that night." Al was starting to smile, now, and it wasn't pleasant. "No mark, eh…? Pity. Very well, I'll tell you my name if you answer me…five questions. _After_ I tell you. No backing out. The summoning will be in exactly one week's time, midnight sharp. Agreed?"

I glanced at Rachel again. She shrugged again. "At least it's not a mark," she said. She was looking curious about where this was going.

I had a feeling I _knew_ where this was going, but she was right, it wasn't a mark. "OK," I said. "Deal."

"You may summon me with the name Algaliarept," Al said, smiling broadly. "You will not give my name to this boy, or anyone else, or you belong to _me_."

"But _he_'s going to summon you, I'm just holding the circle!" I protested. "I have to tell him."

Al's eyebrows rose with innocent delight. "I said I'd tell _you _my name. I'm afraid you'll have to do the summoning, love. First question: how did you get that scar?"

Bare minimum information. "Someone cut me," I answered truthfully.

Al beamed. "And about how long ago was that…?"

I swallowed. "A little over thirty years ago," I said.

Al leaned closer. "And tonight, you set that circle…by accident?"

"It wasn't a conscious decision, if that's what you mean."

Al took a step closer, and I found myself rooted to the spot. "And you are…let me guess…about forty-sixish, give or take?"

Oh _shit_. "Yes."

He was almost in my personal space now. He leaned in for the kill, whispering in my ear. "Who was it, Evie? Who gave you that scar?"

At the sound of my old nickname, I had to close my eyes. "A-Ash," I whispered.

Al's voice was triumphant and loud, making me jump and stare at him wildly. "Well, I'll be damned. You're the one who got away, all those years ago!" His hand flashed out and grabbed my chin, turning my face to better examine the disfigured side. His gloved finger traced the scar. "Look at you, all grown up. No wonder you bound me-without even thinking!-when I showed up. Ash worked you over _hard,_ didn't he?"

A demon was touching my face. A demon. Touching my face. I managed not to shriek and spent another precarious moment trying to stave off another panic. _Breathe. In, out. Happy place. Don't faint. Happy thoughts. Breathe, damnit!_

"No kidding?" Jenks asked.

Rachel, meanwhile, had her hand on her forehead, rubbing the bridge of her nose as if she had a headache. "Great. Just freaking _brilliant,_" she muttered. "This just keeps getting better and better…"

"Oh, yes. She held him off all night. He was furious. Rachel, this is wonderful! It's like you've brought me an early Solstice gift! I'm tempted to give you the weekend off!"

"Really?" asked Jenks. Rachel evidently knew better than to reply.

"No." Al released me and stepped back, clapping his hands in delight. "And you have _my_ name, not his. Capital!"

I had to work spit into my mouth before I could speak again. "You're going to tell him, aren't you."

"Tell him? My dear, I am going to _rub his fucking nose in it_. And when I snatch you out from under it, he'll pay me a fortune for you. If not him, someone else, if he's right about you. I might just get that conservatory yet!"

"Al," said Rachel with exasperation. But when Al glanced at her, she looked away and sighed. She returned to trying to wipe away what looked like a growing migraine. "It's what you do. I know, I know. But do you have to keep rubbing _my nose_ in it?"

"Of course." He returned to studying me again. "Oh, he's going to be _so_ pissed off. He's my biggest competitor, you see. We do specialize a bit so we don't cross paths often, but it's always such fun to beat him to a really good catch."

"If you think," I managed, "that I'm _ever_ going to summon you _now_, you are off your rocker. There is no. Fucking. Way."

Al didn't look worried. "Yes, you will. If you recall, the summoning was part of the deal. Do tell me that you've changed your mind, it will make things ever so much quicker."

"No!" Rachel said sharply.

"It's all right, I know what happens if you break a deal," I reassured her, feeling exhausted. "All right, Algaliarept. One week. Midnight. Got it."

"It's a date!" Al was still grinning evilly. I gaped in horror as his features rearranged themselves into the face from my nightmares. "Wear something special, Evie," he purred He even had Ash's voice down perfectly. He looked me up and down again, _tski_ng. "We'll have to do something about that scar, love."

OK, yeah, I fainted at that point. I'd be more embarrassed, but frankly, looking back, it was a miracle I'd lasted _that_ long.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Five: In Which Rachel Does Not Kick an Ass That Probably Deserves It**

I woke up on the sofa shortly afterward. Rachel was sitting in a chair nearby, reading a magazine, waiting for me. I looked around, but Al was gone.

"I _like_ the scar," I mumbled, sitting up. I propped my elbows on my knees buried my face in my hands. "Until now, it kept me from doing completely idiotic things like this." I heard Rachel sit down beside me. And a faint whine of wings, as Jenks landed on her shoulder. "You're not exactly seeing me at my best. It's just that all those memories…well." 

Rachel nodded in understanding, though she also looked a bit miffed. Apparently she wasn't the type to lash out at someone who was just barely holding it together, though.

"You are so screwed, lady," observed Jenks. Jenks, on the other hand. wasn't shy about letting his miff shine.

I was far from offended- he was right. "I can't bargain for shit, can I?"

"You didn't do so bad," said Rachel. "Al's pretty awful. I thought you were overreacting at first, but….crap on toast, you should have told me you've tangled with a demon before!"

"You might not have helped me."

"No shit," she said. "And there's nothing I can do about it now. Al was crystal clear, he warned me to stay out of it. You're on your own."

"Any advice?"

"Try not to piss him off? Look, you really are in trouble if Al is really after you. He's a vicious son of a bitch. You might consider moving into a church, it worked for me. Mostly."

"And get some serious backup," Jenks suggested.

"You may be able to work something out with him, if you can find something he wants _really_ bad. But honestly, I got here by pissing off important people and landing in the middle of witch, human, and demon politics, and managed to play 'em all off each other. And I still wouldn't call myself safe."

"He seems to like you OK," I pointed out.

Rachel and Jenks both burst into mirthless laughter. "I'm a special, special snowflake," she said mockingly.

Rachel gave me a brief history of her dealings with Al. I suspected it was heavily edited. For example, I had no idea why either of them thought it was worth it for her to spend Saturdays with him learning curses she couldn't possibly invoke. Or why, exactly, she had been shunned, and why the coven was out to silence her. I certainly didn't envy her. But it gave me much to think about, all the same.

I'd told her my story, too. I showed her the pictures, because she said she'd been to a lot of parties in the Ever After and had met several familiars. But she didn't recognize any of them. She was a bit more understanding about my reasoning, but she warned me how easy it would be to dig myself in deeper. Case in point: today's interview with Al.

Eventually she shooed me out, explaining she had to tidy up before her partner got back. She added that I was still overwrought and Ivy would find my emotions hard to deal with. Ivy was a living vampire, and fear triggered their instincts. Rachel trusted her partner, but didn't really want to subject her to someone's panic attack on her own home turf.

"Vampiric Charms," I recalled, reading the plaque by the front door. "OK, you're the "Charms" and Ivy's the "Vampiric," so what does that make Jenks?"

"The plucky comic relief?" Rachel said, grinning.

"I heard that!" came Jenks' voice from inside the church. "Don't make me pix you!"

"Look, Dr. Johnson. I have enough on my plate to lose any more sleep over this, too. Just….call me when it's over and let me know how it worked out, all right?"

We parted, wishing each other the best. She was in way deeper than I was, and she was still alive and walking this side of the lines. Shunned and covered with smut, but alive. I began to nurse a hope that I just might find a way to help myself as well.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part Six: In Which Affairs Are Settled, and Relatives are Informed **

I spent most of the week forcing myself to relive the encounter, over and over. Both of them. Wrote them down. Recited them in front of a mirror. Wore my real face all week.. Ditched the booze and the psych charms. It wouldn't do to collapse in the middle of the process- though apparently my subconscious could hold a circle just fine on its own, who knew?

It was seriously the worst fucking week of my life. Well, barring the first week after Ash's visit.

I also took the time to settle my affairs. Which pretty much meant that, in the case of spontaneous combustion, my book collection went to the university library, my spell pots to the neighbor I barely knew, and my meager inheritance to a local hospital. I keep my affairs real simple. Heh. I keep my affairs with men even simpler by just not having any. Not after...well, that's another story, one that has zilch to do with demons and everything to do with my poor taste in guys.

Not that the gents were banging down my door and dueling over me, not with the big-ass slash down my cheek. Harry Potter I'm not. It doesn't look cool or even bad-ass, just makes folks wince when they imagine how it happened. It's great for intimidating students. I enjoy wondering what they think happened- it couldn't come anywhere near the truth, after all. It's not one of those really nasty, puckery scars that fuck with your muscles. It's shiny, about two shades lighter than my skin, and there are dimples where the stitches were. It didn't heal well at the time, and I kinda wonder if Ash did that on purpose- maybe demons are venomous? (Or have poor hygiene. Remember, kids, you really should wash your hands after you disembowel someone.) It starts at my temple and trails right off of my chin, and pulls my mouth and eye a little oddly on that side when I smile.

Not that I do that a lot, either. I sometimes wonder how my life would have turned out differently if he hadn't scarred me. I probably wouldn't be wasting my time in academia, that's for damned sure. I took this job because I was more than fucking qualified, and because it gave me access to the deepest darkest sections of the university library, not for any great love of idiot teenagers. I had a well-earned reputation for being a hard-nosed bitch, the one whose classes you took because you had to or because you really wanted your ass kicked into some serious learning. When you had to teach yourself how to walk again when you were a brain-damaged sixteen year old, you kind of lose empathy for students trying to weasel their way out of assignments due to a little case of flu or a bad break-up. Boo hoo. I enjoyed going to (rate my professors dot com) and happily agreeing with the negative reviews. I loved the nickname they gave me: Dr. Slasher, both for the scar and for the way I graded papers. Hee hee.

Now in my forties, I kept my hair short and fluffy and my wardrobe utilitarian. Nearly all my free time was spent puttering about the kitchen stirring advanced spells, so I didn't bother much with social or fashion niceties. Though I still had the appearance of a human woman in her early thirties (love those witch hormones!), my black hair was starting to be flecked with grey that I didn't bother to hide. I often looked tired from lack of sleep (thank you, Ash), and usually had a bit of the old limp (the brain damage had left me a bit weak on my left side. Again, thank you, Ash.) I supposed I might have been pretty, once, but it seemed like such a long time ago when that had mattered to me. Not after I'd been told attractiveness was a selling point. I always wondered why, if that was true, Ash had fucked up my face so badly. I supposed it was an "If I can't have you" kind of thing. Asshole.

By the end of the week I was pretty strung out from lack of sleep, so I spent that last night with a double strength sleep potion. When I woke up the next morning, stupid and dazed, I felt, if not ready, at least cleansed. I'd dealt with the last thirty years by focusing on self-preservation, and that meant not reliving those events if I could help it. Now...? I couldn't imagine anything Al could throw at me, at least with his little impersonations, that I hadn't already come up with myself.

I'd also made the hardest decision yet: calling up Mrs. Daughter of Red after my last interview with Derek and letting her know what her kid was up to. It wasn't a pleasant conversation, as you might imagine. How do you convince a hysterical, sobbing mom that you were _pretty _sure you could keep her kid from being dragged off to Hell like her father was, and that you only had the best of intentions? I had to remind her that Derek was legal now, and that demon summoning was too. Just real stupid, as the saying went. She insisted on attending. I could hardly refuse.

Oh, and one final thing: we were going back to Colorado, where his family still lived, for the summoning. Derek's grandparents bought us the tickets the moment after I'd hung up the phone. I protested, and they threatened to hire a private runner to tag my ass if it wasn't on the plane.

Fair enough. If I were going to face my past, I might as well go all out. It was time to go home.

Except it wasn't really home anymore. Thirty-plus years and a Turn later, and the place was nearly unrecognizable. I sort of expected people to know who I was, but turns out thirty- plus years and a Turn is also a bit longer than local legend's memory, for the most part. Thank goodness for that small mercy.

Red's daughter was named Mary, and she'd been about four years old when he disappeared. Red had been the eldest of our group, nearly twenty at the time, ready to head off to college on a football scholarship. She was polite, but I could see the long-standing pain simmering under the surface.

Mary was nothing compared to seeing Blaise again. I knew her from school, at least before she'd dropped out to raise a kid, and she'd been certain Red would have married her someday. (Having known Red in his less tender moments, I had my doubts on this point.) Everything would have been sunshine and daisies instead of the hard life she'd had to eke out as a single mom. And I was the only person still around to blame, and it was obvious that she did blame me. She barely managed to overcome her hostility enough to mouth the necessary social niceties, but still she insisted on coming to this event. And she also insisted on bringing her husband Kevin, a buddy of Red's from way back when, whose face was so closed I couldn't read him at all.

I couldn't blame them for being a bit upset on being confronted with the sole survivor of the disaster. A lot of the therapy was instrumental in helping me deal with the absurd suicidal desire borne of the blackest despair you can imagine: to go back to that clearing and hand myself over to Ash. Survivor's guilt is a bitch. I honestly felt (and occasionally still do feel) that I should have died for my stupidity and gullibility, and it doesn't help you recover when everyone else agrees with you. Maybe that's what the scar was supposed to do, to remind me and everyone else of what I'd done, until I gave in to the despair and isolation and I returned to him. Wouldn't put it past him.

As Ash said, though: I'm a tough little bitch. A bit screwball, and maybe I occasionally collapse in supermarkets, but I can kill you with my _chi._

I tried to talk them out of attending, I really did. Last thing we needed was a three-ring circus full of overwrought people. I had enough wrought of my own to deal with. But come they would, or they'd do what they should have done long ago and report my black witch ass to the Coven of Moral and Ethical Standards. I shot back that if they came, they were to leave the bargaining to myself, as the least emotionally invested person, or so help me I would bail on them all and call Al by myself. Just summon him to fulfill the terms of our agreement, and banish him before he could even open his mouth.

I was tempted to do that anyway. Wouldn't that just chafe his hide?

I was actually glad I was doing this in Colorado- it meant a lot to me that Al wouldn't know where my current home base was. It also occurred to me that I wasn't sure which time zone he'd be holding me to, but I figured he was used to dealing with Rachel, so perhaps I would adjust for the time shift.

Yeah, I was pretty fucking prepared for anything that demon could throw at me.

Do you see where I went wrong this time?


	7. Chapter 7

**Part Seven: In Which Evie Does Not Use Her Better Judgement (As Usual)**

So it was that we set up with five people around a salt circle in the woods, in a scene eerily similar to the night of my nightmare. Except God himself couldn't bust through _this _triple-wound circle, and I was holding it by myself. Nobody was going to break this sucker but me.

Some far off church sounded the hour. Ten O'clock. Midnight in Cincinnati.

"Al," I said, since Rachel told me all I really needed to do was think his full name, and I'd been sworn to secrecy, after all. _Algaliarept._ "I summon you."

Turns out we'd both dressed up for the occasion. How could we resist? Al showed up as Ash. I had donned a T-shirt, bought especially for this occasion, that read "Bite me."

"Hello again, Al," I said. The watchers had huddled together in silent fear at his appearance, gawking in mixed horror and wonder.

"Evie," he purred. "Did you have a pleasant week?"

"Not at all, you?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Quite," he said smugly. He rubbed gloved hands together in anticipation. "So...three generations, all waiting for news of their beloved lost one. How sentimental. It just so happens that I do know the fate of Russel Howard Redmond. The question is, what do you have for me?"

Silence. I glanced at the gang. "Well...? You're up! Out with it, what did you dig up?" They'd insisted that they had something good, but I couldn't weasel it out of them before the midnight deadline. I wasn't worried. It'd be on their own heads if it weren't enough.

"Information," said Mary. "On a witch."

I glanced at Derek. The kid looked guilty as fuck and was avoiding my gaze.

"Her name," said Blaise. "And her current place of residence." I did a doubletake- she was pointing at me!

Son of a bitch.

"You have got to be kidding me! I cannot believe this!" I said, disgusted. "You called me all the way out here to try to screw me over? That's what you're trying to do?"

"No!" Derek said quickly. "No, I just wanted-" He looked miserable. I wondered whether his parents had put him up to this before or after he'd found me out.

"Mmm, tempting, but I want more than that," said Al.

"A mark," Blaise said suddenly. "Give her a demon mark. She'll wear the mark she should have gotten years ago. Show everyone what she is!"

"Like hell I will!" I snapped. "And my name is not for fucking sale! You use your own information and keep me out of it!."

"You owe us, you bitch! If you hadn't broken your end of the deal thirty years ago then none of this would be necessary!"

"What the Hell are you talking about?" I was floored. "You pick NOW to bring this up? What the fuck, lady?"

"You got Red killed!" she hissed venomously. "You and that bitch Judy! If it hadn't been for you-"

Al made a _tsk_ noise, as if the idea was uncivilized. "Killed? Pfft. Well, once or twice, maybe, before he learned his place..."

I ignored him, but Blaise's face went white. "Look, your precious Red was eager enough to screw _me_ over at the time, lady. And bargain for marks all you want, I am not dropping this fucking circle for anything." _God, I can't believe I was so gullible! Again!_

Al, still looking like Ash, was watching us with amusement. He cleared his throat. "A mark would be acceptable," he said, then blinked as I turned on him.

"No! Not happening! In fact, I think this little party is over."

"Gran, this isn't...you didn't say you'd...she's got a-"

"Derek," his mother said, shushing him.

"So soon? It sounds like a fine deal to me," Al said. "The goods on Miss Evie here, and a demon mark, in exchange for the knowledge of Russel Howard Redmond's fate? I agree."

"That's it, I'm calling this off!" Fuck all of them. Fuck closure!

"I beg your pardon, but _you _called _me_," Al started, and I turned on him again.

"Yes, I did, not that you gave me a choice!" My adrenaline was spiking and my anxiety was kicking in. It didn't help that Al still wore Ash's form. I was finding it harder to remember that this was not _my _demon. "And now I'm going to ban-"

"No you're not," said Blaise. Oh my fucking God, she was holding a fucking gun.

Everyone went still, even Al.

I was breathing heavily with anxiety, mind working furiously. "I don't believe this. I can't fucking believe I walked into this. I can't believe you would use your own grandson to fucking set me up!"

"Drop the circle," Blaise ordered.

"Or what? You'll shoot me? You think I'm scared of _you_, after what I've been through?"

Blaise's hand was shaking. I had no idea if she could honestly hit me, but the fury on her face said in no uncertain terms she'd do her damnedest to try. "Drop. The circle," she ordered again.

"Better do as she says, love," Al suggested gleefully, enjoying the smashing good drama unfolding before him.

"You'd better shoot to kill, or I will fucking murder you and everyone else in this clearing," I said, meaning every word. "And if I do die, your little bargain means that Al here can mark any of you that he wants, and your info on my name is useless. Not to mention you didn't bargain for your safety, either. I drop this circle and he can grab any one of you he wants."

Blaise's hand shook more. "Safety for all of us," she snapped. "No kidnapping."

"Damn. Except the markee?" Al said hopefully.

"Fine by me," Blaise snapped, smiling maliciously.

"I am the fucking summoner here!" I shouted, as the situation continued to spiral out of my control. "I do not fucking agree to anything she said and I will not drop this circle even if you plug me! I will die before I take a mark, and I will take you all with me!" A note of hysteria was creeping into my voice. "You'll have to shoot me," I said to Blaise, then turned back to Al with every intention of banishing him bad to the Ever After.

"A word of advice, Evie?" Al said innocently.

"This is for Red," said Kevin's voice, and I felt a push from behind. A really hard shove, straight at Al. It sent me stumbling forward, reeling out of control- straight into my own circle. I braced for the smack into the barrier, but my circle dissolved as I touched it and I was propelled ungracefully right into Al's waiting arms.

"Look behind you," he said smugly, if a bit belatedly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Part Eight: In Which A Shot is Fired and Fates are Sealed**

I gaped up at Ash. The logical part of my brain had shut down and all I knew was that it was Ash and he'd caught me and this was it, it was time to use the suicide charm I'd been saving just for this scenario. The pungent stink of burnt amber surrounded me and banished whatever rational thought I still had, as rage began to take hold. This was the nightmare scenario I had gone over in my head every night for the last ten years, once I'd laid my plans for vengeance. It was coming true. A strange, deadly clarity came over me.

The demon was saying something, but all I heard was a rushing in my ears. "Don't touch me!' I growled. "Don't you dare fucking touch me! I will blow up this fucking line, Ash, remember what I did before? I can do it again, bigger, stronger. I'll take you with me, Ash, if you fucking try to mark me I swear to God I will take you with me! Let me go!"

Ash really had to work to hold onto me, looking a little surprised at my reaction. I felt him touch my_ chi, _ready to drain it away as Ash had done, and again my years of self-training kicked in. I slammed up a protective circle in my own thoughts, blocking it off. He actually jerked a little in surprise. "Don't you dare! See this?" I shoved my wristwatch nearly up his nose. "I have enough here to blow you to kingdom fucking come! Let me go! Let me go, Ash, I'll do it! I've been waiting for this for thirty years, you asshole!"

Ash looked truly shocked. "Holy shit," he said. "Where did you get-"

"Just try it," I growled. "Give me a reason, Ash. You think you're faster than me? Go ahead and try it, you motherfucking son of a bitch!"

Ash's face melted into another face, one I recognized but couldn't place. Ash fucking with me again, I knew, and I continued to fight like a wildcat. "You're serious about this, aren't you? You might even be able to pull it off,' he said, "but you'll take everyone else here with you, you know."

I smiled, but it was a manic, twisted grimace. "Better dead than going off with you, Ash. Do you think I'll let you take another kid if I can help it? After what I saw you do? I'd kill him myself before I let you take him! I'll kill all of us!" I began to feel for the line. Not to tap it, but to become it. To surrender to it. It would be instantaneous.

Ash stared at me, a hint of real anxiety in his eyes. "Calm down, love," he said quickly as I made the connection. He tried to block it, and again looked surprised when he failed.

"Let her go!" Derek shouted unexpectedly. "She's not kidding, she told me all about it!"

"You have three seconds to let me go. One! Two!"

Ash gave me a good solid shove, sending me stumbling far out of his reach. He shook his head as I tripped and fell, cursing hysterically. "You're insane," he said, half in disgust, and half in wonder. "Fucking psychotic!"

"What are you doing?" screeched Blaise. "Give her the mark, take her away with you!"

"Not a chance, love," Ash said, straightening his lace. "She'd be useless as a familiar anyway. She's a fucking lunatic already." He regarded me with a strange expression, a cold and deadly fury building in his eyes. "The only reason I do not rip you to shreds right now is that I promised safety to all of you. Except the unlucky fool who gets a mark. I will not forget this. Nobody threatens my life and lives, especially not crazy-ass little witches."

I regained my feet, still simmering with rage and anticipation, still prepared to loose the ley line in a wave of annihilation if required. Let him try. Just let him try. I wanted him to try. I wanted to take him out_ so _bad.

"So."Ash said...and I blinked. Al. Al, not Ash. Reality was seeping back into my thoughts, now that the immediate danger to me was over, and the rage began to ease a little. This wasn't the demon of my past. It was just a demon. Who, granted, would have been just as unpleasant as Ash, but Ash was the true object of my fury. Wasn't he? "I believe we still have a deal? Any volunteers?"

I made a mad dash for Derek. One of his family was about to get good and screwed, and I was determined it wasn't going to be him. He was still standing next to his mom, and I had the three of us in an instant circle in under five seconds. A personal best, considering it included carving the circle in the dirt with my knife first. I had my doubts that an undrawn circle would hold off an angry demon.

Perhaps I needn't have worried. Blaise tried to shoot me as I dashed past. She plugged Al instead.


	9. Chapter 9

**Part Nine: In Which Evie Says Farewell**

The evening before I returned to Florida, I returned to the site of the original summoning. It was the last thing I had to do, the last hurdle to face.

Thirty years had wiped out all traces of the event, but the parents had planted a rowan tree to mark the site of the circle. The local media had dug everything up all over again when covering the deaths of Blaise and her husband, Kevin. There were flowers scattered about the tree, pictures of the four kids who had vanished there, notes and cards and burnt-out candles. Nothing was there to commemorate my own presence at the event. Which was as it should be.

Al hadn't been in the best mood when Blaise's bullet had ripped through his shoulder. Unspoken rule of summoning: if a demon's given you a promise of safety and you turn around and shoot him, well, even the Fear of Newt isn't enough to stop said demon from ripping out your still-beating heart. I didn't know if Al took their souls before he killed them, but he might have. And he didn't bother to stick around and try to wear me down to snatch the rest of us, either. I was fully prepared to fight him off all night, but I think he probably knew it. It was hard on us all, but I made them wait until sunrise before letting them out, just in case. It hadn't taken much convincing. Not after they'd seen...well, best not to go into the details.

I sat beneath the rowan in the warm autumn sunshine, knowing that I was now sitting in the ley line as well. I laid upon the dappled grass what I had brought with me- nothing much, just some wildflowers and a few amulets, uninvoked. The flowers were for my friends. The amulets were….maybe…for me.

I felt rather empty inside. Sure, I'd saved Derek and his mom. Not that they were thanking me. Derek was planning on dropping out of school, and his mom was doing some serious threatening phone-calling of her own. Lawyers, the Coven, the Dean of the university. I was going to lose my job, but I didn't care. It was time to move on, anyway. Al had gotten the information he wanted, though it turned out Blaise didn't know my real name after all. She only knew my current alias, and stuck my former last name onto it. "Evangelina Mae Sinclaire" was such a ridiculous name, I was only shocked she'd fallen for it. But he had my current address, so it was time to disappear again.

But I'd saved the kid all the same. And I hoped that he and his family had had enough of demons to last a lifetime. We'd never know what happened to Red, or Greg, or Toby and Judy, but I could live with that. It was time to say goodbye to them for the last time.

I talked to them for awhile, silently, finally letting myself remember what had lay hidden beneath the horror for so long. They hadn't been the _best_ friends, but we had bonded by virtue of the sheer wonder of the experience. Greg, in particular, had had a lot of potential, not as a witch but just…potential to be a real decent person. Judy hadn't always been a bitch to me. It only got bad after Ash convinced her that Greg wanted me, or that I was seducing Greg away from her, or whatever he told her that made her so full of jealous hatred. Toby, poor Toby, from the wrong side of the tracks, who just wanted to get the fuck out of our little hick town…he was such an odd mix of idealistic naiveté and utter cynic. Red had been pretty decent to me, the nerdy girl, even when the rest of the jocks wouldn't give me the time of day.

That summer had been magical, in all senses of the word. We were young, innocent, and anything was possible.

Something inside me released and I wept for them afresh. No demon would have seen their potential, their quirks, their passions, their talents as anything other than a tool to be exploited. It was such a waste. Ash, who had spent an entire summer carefully setting his snare, had probably forgotten them entirely by now. Ash, who thought nothing of the lives he destroyed, who probably saw the mortals he hunted as nothing more than an interesting, enjoyable challenge to alleviate the boredom of immortality.

And I finally forced myself to admit it: he'd probably forgotten me, too. There were many thousands of talented ley line witches to play with, after all, and I wasn't so full of myself to believe I'd been anything special. Other than that incredibly fortunate kid who got away. His last words to me may have been meaningless, just another last dig at my ruined psyche to make sure I'd never sleep well again. It had worked. I wondered again if my life could have been different if I hadn't taken them so seriously. If I hadn't taken them so seriously, I wouldn't have felt compelled to go to all this trouble for Derek, certainly wouldn't have had motivation to call Algaliarept. It was vain to think he would actually be seeking me out all this time. For thirty years? Did I really think I could have escaped a determined demon's notice for thirty years?

I fingered the wristwatch. I had almost done it, and there hadn't been a trace of doubt or conscience. I would have killed five people- well, six, if I counted Al as a person. And I would have done it without a second thought. What kind of person did that make me? Would I do it again? Did I really hate Ash that much? I thought about the cold, deadly feeling that had clutched at my soul as I readied the charm. It wasn't hate I'd been feeling, it was excitement. Satisfaction. Bloodlust. It was such a mix of foreign emotions, and not one of those emotions had been compassion for the four innocents I would bring with me. Worst of all: relief.

What was that about? Relief? Was this entirely about vengeance, or was all that pent up rage really still directed at myself? Did I really want Ash dead, or was I more interested in some sort of elaborate, justifiable suicide? I couldn't answer that question yet.

The sun was low, but I felt no urge to leave. The sheer mental exhaustion of the week had fallen on me now. The air was still surprisingly warm, the little clearing peaceful and teeming with evening insect sounds. I let myself drift off, waking when the moon was just beginning to peek out over the trees. It was decision time. I didn't have to do this.

Yes, I did.

I tapped the line, feeling the far-too-familiar flavor of its resonance. I let it dance through me under my skin, tingling and cold. I felt a harsh tug of anxiety, but nothing like the debilitating panic attacks. I inhaled, feeling as if I were greeting an old friend after a long ago falling out, exploring tentatively and finding that friend's affection for _me_ had never changed. Sighing, I let it go. Sadness had displaced the anguish, regret had moved aside the knot of guilt. And without the support of these two former, the terror I'd lived with for so long began to finally, finally dissipate. Perhaps, just perhaps, I could begin to heal.

One last task. I invoked the amulets with my blood and placed them around my neck. I felt the heavy tingle of their magic take effect. My emotions dulled, muffled. There would be no temptation to give in to despair tonight, no panic attacks. I couldn't use these amulets often, but they had their time and place. I locked my arms around my knees and laid my head on them. And I closed my eyes, engaging my second sight.


	10. Chapter 10

**Part Ten: In Which Evie Finally Faces Her Demon**

"Hello, Ash," I said, without looking up.

"It's been a long time, Evie."

"Eve, please. I'm not sixteen anymore." I raised my head to look at him. Ash was sitting beside me. Seeing him now, I wondered how I could have mistaken Al's impersonation for the real thing.

He hadn't changed in thirty years, but he appeared completely different to my adult eyes. He was much younger-looking, for a start (anyone over thirty looks like an old fogey to a sixteen year old). He had also updated his wardrobe to a simple, expensive-looking button shirt and black slacks. I realized, as my heart gave a funny little sideways tug, that I really _had_ had a big crush on him as a girl. He was handsome, in an intelligent, nerdy, understated kind of way. The Jeff Goldblum of the demon world. Where Al was flamboyant and crude, Ash had a quiet intensity about him that was much more subtle. When he looked at you, you did feel like you had all his attention, that nothing in the world was more important than you at that moment.

He was examining me seriously as well, and I shivered. His red, goat-slitted eyes were as disconcerting as I remembered. "No, you're not," he agreed. "How long have you known I was watching you?"

I shrugged. "I didn't. I just knew you'd be here. You knew I'd come."

"How do you know I'm not Al?" he asked teasingly.

"You're not nearly furious enough to be Al, not after the other night."

"I saw that. You've made yourself a deadly enemy, there."

"Heh, you saw that...?"

"Indeed. Al couldn't resist telling me what was up, so I came to watch the fun. I couldn't hear what was said, but I must say that I was impressed with how you handled yourself. "

"Yeah...?" I caught myself being flattered, just like in the good old days, and scowled.

"Yes, at least I don't have to worry about Al snatching you. I think you actually managed to scare the daylights out of him. What did you say to him? I've never, ever seen him let someone go before."

"First time for everything," I muttered.

"I can't believe you went to _Algaliarept_, of all people," Ash continued, grimacing with distaste. "Why _him_?"

I had to smile at his tone. "What, you're not jealous, are you? How the hell would I know how to find _you_? I found another summoner and asked for some help. I got Al instead."

Ash grunted, mollified. "You're still an idiot. All you had to do was stand in the line and call me. Now you've got Al to worry about, too."

"First, we moved the fuck away from here as soon as I could feed myself again, and second, it'll be a cold day in hell before I call _you_ for any reason,' I said amiably.

"Yet here you are," he said, just as pleasantly. "And I should probably let you know, hell- or at least the Ever After- is pretty damned cold."

Heh, the more you know. I'd never use _that_ phrase again. "Yeah. Here I am. But not because of you. Long story."

Ash waited for me to tell him, then realized my days of thoughtlessly speaking whatever was on my mind were long gone. His eyes flicked to the scar on my cheek, then to my hair. "What's with the butch haircut?" he asked. "You had such lovely hair."

I couldn't help it, I snorted and burst into laughter. "...asks the man who fucked up my face," I replied.

"You chop off your hair, you alter your face with a charm…yet you don't hide the scar. I'm a little surprised," he continued.

I smiled ruefully. "Sentimental reasons. It was a gift, you know?" I drew a finger down it gently, from force of habit. "Suits me, yeah?"

"Sentimental reasons," he echoed, amused disbelief in his voice. He reached to touch it. I'd been prepared for that and steeled myself not to move. There was a hint of chill as his insubstantial fingers passed through my skin, and he withdrew his hand. We weren't sharing realities, after all. We were just hooked into the same line.

"Yeah, well, I didn't say what those sentiments were." I rested my chin back on my knees, gazing at him thoughtfully. I wasn't even sure what they were myself. Thanks to the amulets, it was as if I was looking at both of us from a position a few feet back, and Ash was a being who had a job to do. He had tortured Greg, true. But he hadn't been gleeful about it, simply...practical. It was a strategy that would have worked on most people. It hadn't worked on me. He didn't have a conscience, but now that I'd met Algaliarept, seen the evident enjoyment he'd taken in killing the unfortunate Blaise and Kevin, well...I had to say that Ash was looking better for the comparison.

I didn't think this conversation was going as he'd planned. What was he expecting me to do, rage at him? Beg him for news of my friends? Toss myself at him out of guilt? Offer to melodramatically do _anything_ to gain their freedom? Heh. _Riiiiight._

He tilted his head again to regard me fondly, a simmering intensity to his stare, and I felt my heart lurch again. "I've missed you, Evie. I have so many plans for you."

"Oh, pull the other one, Ash!" I said, rolling my eyes. "You wouldn't even have remembered me if Al hadn't reminded you. As you said, you're a lazy son of a bitch, and I'm not_ that_ special."

"But you're still _mine_. Not his." I noticed he hadn't contradicted me. Bastard. He _had_ forgotten!

I didn't answer him right away, thinking over all my epiphanies of the evening instead. "You're right," I finally replied, and he did a double take.

"I'm..._right_?" he repeated, stunned.

"You're right. I've been yours ever since that night. Everything I've done, everything I've learned, everything I am, is because of you. You're my motivation, my nightmare, and my muse. You haunt my thoughts, you walk my dreams, and my every decision has you at its heart. No other hand has influenced the course of my destiny more than yours. I hate it and I wish it were different, but it's the truth. And you will haunt me until I die, whether or not I ever see you again. It was a curse and a gift, this scar. I escaped being your familiar by a lucky accident, but I never escaped _you_."

Ash was silent for a very long time, contemplating my answer with an unreadable expression. "Why, Evie," he said finally, "You've grown up."

"Yeah. And you haven't changed a bit. That's the worst part. That you've touched every aspect of my life, and I was absolutely nothing to you ." There it was, I thought. I didn't really believe that my charm would kill Ash permanently. But he sure as hell wouldn't have forgotten me after that. Maybe that was all I had ever wanted, just...to hurt him. To scar him. To be unforgettable. A special snowflake after all.

Heh. Maybe I was still sixteen in there somewhere. I certainly still wrote shitty emo poetry.

He was silent again, regarding me with an unusual gravity. "Why did you reveal so much to me, Evie?" he asked finally. "Such honest insight into your thoughts is dangerous. You must know I will use it to my advantage."

"Oh, right. You like that kind of information." I wasn't sure why I'd told him, either. These amulets were supposed to make me logical and cold, dammit. Old habits die hard? "I should have saved it to bargain with, I suppose. I wonder what I could have bought with it?" Before he could answer, I shrugged and stood up. "Well, this has been fun, but I have an early plane to catch. So long, Ash."

"You're leaving?"

"Yes. I'm done."

"You're….done," he repeated, looking honestly confused. I think he still expected me to try bargaining for info about my friends. But no.

"Yup. I'm done. With you, with all of this. Done. Moving on." I began walking away.

"Al will be looking for you," he said.

"Yeah, so he said. He was only out to piss you off. And he really doesn't have a reason to spend the effort to track me down, since he said I'm worthless as a familiar. A fucking lunatic. He'll turn to easier pickings. Like you will." I didn't even turn around.

I heard him chuckle. "You keep thinking that," he said, amused. "Al sold me your address."

"Yeah, well, ask him sometime why he sold it to you cheap, before you decide to look me up."

"I'm not worried. If I decide to snatch you, I'll just be sure to knock you good and senseless first," he said lightly. "Until we meet again, _Yvette."_

I stopped dead with shock, heart suddenly in my mouth again. I whirled around and stared at him, appalled. "How did…? _Who the FUCK told you?" _I demanded.

His laugh was full of wicked satisfaction. "Lucky guess. Have a nice flight." He dissolved into smoke with a mocking little wave.

Well, shit.


	11. Chapter 11

**Part Eleven: In Which Evie Gets a Mysterious Note **

I resigned from my university position shortly after my return to Florida. It's not like I could continue to teach there after I'd put a student's life in danger, even if I did end up saving that student's ass in the bargain. It didn't matter that I'd been doublecrossed by his family, either. They were out for blood.

I would be called before the Coven to answer for my actions, I knew that much. I was curious to see how it would go. I didn't care. I could justify everything I did, and I had only been trying to help. If they decided to censure or shun me, well...I'd lived as if shunned all my life, why not make it real?

I thought about my future career carefully. University work was out. Perhaps I could get a degree in library arts, shouldn't take long since I'd practically lived in libraries since I was eighteen. I wasn't worried. I wasn't running any longer. I'd move, sure, no reason to tempt fate by making it easy for Al or Ash to find me if he were in the area. But I wasn't running any more, and I had enough money to live on for a short time. I was actually happier than I'd been in quite a long while.

After my story hit the papers, I got a phone call from another family. A demon named Al had stolen their son a few years back, and they wanted my help and advice in contacting him. Funnily enough, I happened to know a guy who might be able to help them. Was there a future in being a consultant in cases of demon-kidnapping? I found my thoughts returning to it, how it could work with a minimum of danger to me. Two circles, I thought, one for me, one for the demon, and I don't interfere in any bargaining that happens. Advisory role only.

It meant dealing with Al again, though. But maybe he wouldn't be so pissed if he were making new contacts in reality. Could I condone my actions if I accidentally got someone snatched? On the other hand, a fool would almost certainly be snatched if he/she went in completely unprepared.

I kept turning the idea over and over in my head as I packed up my meager belongings and began house hunting. Perhaps Louisiana somewhere. New Orleans was still pretty messed up, but it might be a great place for setting up a demon-consultant practice for bereaved families.

The bundle of flowers arrived the following week. There was no return address, nothing to identify from whom these flowers had originated. They were roses, red roses. Two dozen of the mysterious little suckers. I called the florist to find out who'd sent them, and they gave me a fake name and number from someone in Texas. There was a card, too, but it was even more cryptic. It read simply, "From a mutual friend."

OK, this was more than a little creepy. Especially when a note that I could have sworn hadn't been there before slipped out of the card I'd just closed. I glanced at it, lying innocently on the floor, then promptly doused the sucker with a glass of salt water, just to be sure. Nothing.

I picked it up and, after only a slight hesitation, opened it.

The handwriting was very neat but oddly shaped and slanted, as if the writer were used to very different characters. There was a single word.

_Kaviashemedaeva._

Funny thing about summoning names. No matter how odd they sound, no matter now briefly they're spoken, you simply cannot forget them. Which is why I wasn't surprised when the parchment burst into flames and burnt to ashes the moment I'd finished reading it.

I felt the familiar knot of terror rise up with the pounding of my heart trying to escape from my chest. I stared at the ashes in my hand for a long, long time. Perhaps he felt he owed me one for that conversation. I shouldn't have said anything, dammit. He was right, he could and would use it.

But whatever his reasons, I now had his name. His real name. No strings attached.

_Kaviashemedaeva._

I glanced at the roses again, and put them in a cheap vase. I dropped a preservative charm into the water to keep them fresh. Why not? I might be a bitter old hag at heart, but I'm still a sucker for pretty flowers. I had to laugh, though. Figures, the first time I get flowers in my entire goddamned life, and they're from a fucking demon.

* * *

_Author's notes:_

Etymology of Ash's name (a bastardization of bits of Avestan, an ancient Iranian dialect)

_Kavi/ Kauui _for "king" or "poet-priest"

_aēšma-daēva:_ demon of wrath

Thanks for all your positive reviews, they really got my mind humming with ideas! I thought about writing a small story to answer the question about how Ash felt about Evie escaping him as a kid, but the answer could be summed up in the following exchange:

**Al: **Hey, you'll never guess who I met today.

**Ash:** ?

**Al: **Evie! She's summoning me in about a week.

**Ash:** *blank look* ...who?

**Al:** You know, Evie! The one with the scar? Thirty years ago?

**Ash: ***thinking*

**Al: **The one that got away? The one I had to waste sixteen bottles of tequila on you until you were drunk enough to tell me the story about?

**Ash:** Oh. Right. Always meant to get back to her, but you know how it goes. Dang, it's really been thirty years?

**Al:** You forgot? You were so pissed off at the time! You vowed to hunt her down to the ends of the earth!

**Ash:** *shrug* I got distracted. I'm a lazy son of a bitch, what can I say?


End file.
